


The Sound of Silence

by destimushi, hollyblue2



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, deaf!Cas, distinct lack of pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi/pseuds/destimushi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyblue2/pseuds/hollyblue2
Summary: It's been weeks since Dean's had pie, and Castiel hopes the diner they're going to tonight will have something to shut up his husband's constant complaining. Sadly, the odds are not in Castiel's favour.





	The Sound of Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cryptomoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptomoon/gifts).



> This is the first time that either of us have co-authored a fic like this and it's for the [Profound Bond Discord Server](https://discord.gg/32Tj6K3)'s founder, Crypto. It's her birthday and so we've written this fic for her.

*

Castiel rolls his eyes as he slides into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean is complaining about the lack of pie again. True, Dean has had some bad luck over the past few weeks, but it certainly doesn’t warrant the constant stream of complaint. Castiel partially tunes him out, easy to do by turning away, but he can still see Dean chatting away with a mixture of sign and wild gestures of dismay.

“Unbelievable! I must be cursed! Am I cursed, Cas?”

Castiel looks back at Dean with his brow raised. “Stop complaining about it.” He signs, brow knitting to show his displeasure and barely stopping himself from clocking Dean over the head.

He returns his attention to the view outside the windshield. They go out for dinner once a week to have some quality time together. For the past few weeks there’s been a distinct lack of pie at every diner and restaurant they’ve visited, and Dean feels compelled to complain about it. 

He tries his best to remain calm. They have more pressing matters than a lack of pie. The adoption centre should have emailed them back yesterday about their appeal to adopt, but neither of them have heard anything yet. Castiel was worried they’d be denied again, and he’s not sure how he’ll cope with that if that’s the case. He sighs quietly, making sure he can see Dean while he’s driving. More than once, Dean’s tried to sign to him while driving so Castiel put a ban on that, telling him it was unsafe. 

Castiel is so drawn into his thoughts, imagining getting a phone call to tell them that they can’t adopt, that it takes Dean tapping him on his arm to signal that they’ve arrived at the diner. Dean gives him a tight smile.

“You okay?” he signs. 

Castiel just shrugs  and signs, “I’m fine.” He lets Dean get out of the car first then takes a deep breath. This is time for he and Dean to spend time together; he’ll try his best not to spend it unhappy. He loves Dean so much; Dean deserves Castiel’s happiness right now. He secretly hopes that this diner has pie.

He follows Dean into the diner, grabbing his hand and giving Dean a small smile when he looks at him. The diner is packed and noisy. Castiel keeps his tight grip on Dean’s hand as they weave around  children running around between the tables.

Castiel is busy looking for a table when Dean taps him. “Somewhere else?” he signs, raising his brows with his intonation. Castiel thinks for a moment. Really they should go somewhere else, somewhere quieter where Castiel might actually have a chance of hearing Dean, but that means getting back in the car and finding somewhere else to eat . With Dean boycotting three diners for their lack of pie, it doesn’t leave them with many choices. Castiel’s stomach rumbles, he’s hungry, and going elsewhere means waiting longer for food. He’ll suffer and hope they can spot a table where it’s quieter. Castiel shakes his head and urges Dean to find a table. 

Perhaps seeing them struggling to find a table, the server comes over and points to one squashed into a corner where another server is clearing away the plates from the last patrons. Dean nods, helping Cas weave through the mass of people. 

Sitting down, they pull out the menus. This diner has speciality burgers, and Castiel chooses one with all his favourite toppings. With two kinds of cheese, bacon, and gherkin, it’s the kind of burger that will ease his mind some. It is thankfully quieter in their corner, and Dean speaks to him to ask if he’s chosen. 

“Yes, the burger with two types of cheese, bacon, and gherkins,” he signs to Dean, and his husband grins.

“I’m gonna have—” Castiel misses some of what Dean says. He might be wearing his hearing aids, but it doesn’t mean he’ll catch everything, especially in a place this noisy. He’s been wearing them long enough that the extra background noise doesn’t bother him as much as when he first started wearing them as a teenager. Glancing at the menu, Castiel guesses Dean would pick the  _ Chef’s Special _ . It’s similar to his own except it has fries inside the burger as well and on the side. Castiel chuckles to himself, he’s not surprised whatsoever. 

Their server comes over and smiles at them both.

“Just a note before you order, we currently don’t have any Porterhouse steaks, pecan pie, or apple pie.” Fuck. Now Dean’s going to complain and he won’t complain to their server, he’ll complain to him and that is not what Castiel came out for.  “What can I get you both?” She asks cheerily. Castiel is pleased he can pick up on her words easier. 

Dean quickly orders for them both and gets an extra side of onion rings for them to share. It’s a nice gesture. As soon as the server leave, Dean shoots him a look and it’s  _ that _ look. The one that says he’s about to explode into a spew of complaining and Castiel isn’t going to be able to get a sign in. So Castiel does the only thing that will make this dinner go smoother, he switches off his hearing aids and lets the noise of the diner fade. He can still hear when someone behind the counter throws a glass bottle into the bottle bin, but he can no longer hear the incessant chatter and he certainly can’t hear Dean tell him how he’s cursed. 

Dean flicks his hand and Castiel looks up at him innocently. Dean scowls but doesn’t sign at him or try to say anything. Instead, once their dinner is put before them, they eat in stony silence, tension pinging between them. Castiel is aware of all the times he thinks Dean is about to sign something and stops. Castiel just eats his burger, which tastes off thanks to the mood. He wants so badly to enjoy his burger, but now it’s just dry and every bite is hard to swallow. It doesn’t seem that Dean is having a good time either. 

When their server clears their plates and offers them the dessert menu, Dean shakes his head. Despite not actually being hungry, Castiel orders a bowl of vanilla ice cream out of spite. Dean raises his brow at him, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his seat. Castiel can tell Dean is as annoyed and as stressed as he is. Really, he probably shouldn’t be taking his frustrations out on Dean so much, but he’s just so done with Dean..

The ice cream tastes better than the burger does, and he eats it all quickly, ignoring how the cold makes his head hurt. They tip the server and pay for their meals before leaving the place in silence. Castiel follows Dean back to the Impala. They walk close but don’t touch, and they certainly don’t hold hands like they did on the way in.

He does feel guilty, but the anxiety over the phone call is outweighing everything at the moment. 

The drive home is reserved, and Castiel itches to say something to Dean before he remembers he’s mad at him. It’s dusk as they enter their hallway and hang up their coats. Dean closes the blinds and curtains, switching on the living room lamp, basking the room in a muted glow. Castiel knows they’re in for a rough night, and he picks at the ribbon of the hardback that’s resting on one of the side tables.

“Cas?” Dean says, signing his name—a sign for  _ honey _ —but Castiel ignores the sentiment. In this room, where it’s quiet and there’s minimal background noise, he can just about make out Dean saying his name. “Nice meal, shame no pie.”

“Stop talking about pie!” Castiel signs, brow furrowed, arms out in anger.

“C’mon, I’m cursed right?” Dean says, voice raised. Cas realises that it’s probably supposed to be a joke, but it falls flat.

“I don’t care about your pie.” Castiel shouts.

Dean glowers at him, storming into the kitchen. Castiel can hear him clearing the drainer, bashing the pots and trays around. Dean knows Castiel can hear him. The glasses clink together and the sound,whatever little he hears, is grating. Completely furious, he charges into the kitchen.

Dean turns as Castiel enters and it’s a standoff until Dean slams his glass on the countertop.

“Get the fuck out,” Castiel snaps at him. He’s had enough of Dean’s complaining and he’s had enough of the raucous. He’s not sure how much more he can handle so having Dean out of his space for an hour will surely do him a world of good. He’s already turned his hearing aids off so there’s not much more he can do to hide from Dean’s complaining. “Clear your head!” He throws his arms up and watches as Dean’s expression turns to shock. The look on Dean’s face makes his stomach twinge but it’s too late. What’s done is done. 

* * *

The door slams behind him. 

Dean storms down the front porch and heads for the car, but stops as his fingers curl around the door handle. He promised John to never drive her in anger, and he’s fucking livid right now. With a frustrated growl, Dean shoves his hands into his coat pockets and stomps down the sidewalk. 

He doesn’t have a destination, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing has mattered since he got the email from the adoption center yesterday. Rejected, again, because they’re worried about Cas’ disability and medical costs. Because they don’t think Dean can cover their living expenses working as an apprentice mechanic if Cas’ condition takes him out of the workforce. Cas is  _ partially deaf _ for fucks sake, not missing an arm and a leg. It feels like discrimination, but Dean can’t say that if they ever want to try again. 

Dean hasn’t had the heart to tell Cas this devastating news. He can see Cas’ face already: hurt, rejection, guilt, anger. All over something that isn’t his fault. Isn’t anyone’s fault. 

Dean kicks a rock. It flies down the sidewalk and hits the cardboard sign of the Asian convenience store that recently opened in their neighbourhood. The first day they opened, Cas had gone in and bought Dean all the anime porn magazines they carried. 

That’s Cas, so full of wit and humour. So full of love and acceptance for everyone and everything, even Dean’s obsession with cartoon porn. That’s the man Dean chose to marry and spend the rest of his life with. The man Dean  _ knows _ will make an amazing father. 

Thinking about Cas reminds him why they’re in this mess in the first place. Reminds him why they put themselves under the scrutiny of some stone-cold bitch who came for a home inspection. Reminds him why he opened up his life and let people poke and prod his every decision. 

Dean has always had a family, a place he belongs. He has Sam, and Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and Ash. He grew up surrounded by people who love him. Even their father, who spent most of Dean’s childhood grieving their mother’s death was a constant in his life. 

The only constant in Cas’ life growing up was trips to the hospital. Doctors, specialists, invasive tests. No one could figure out why his hearing was deteriorating until one day, even his own parents gave up. 

Finding Cas and marrying him was the best thing Dean has ever done. Giving Cas everything in his power has been Dean’s life mission, and the day Cas mentioned he wanted a baby, Dean got the applications for adoption that very evening. Besides, it would be nice to expand their own little family. Be nice to have a child of his own. 

They’re not rich, but they’re well-off enough that Dean never thought they’d be denied. 

Something in Dean’s chest gives, and he deflates as anger drains out of him, replaced by a heavy sadness. He’ll have to tell Cas tonight. They’ll try again in the future, with a different agency, looking online, offline, whatever it takes, they’ll do it together. 

_ They’ll do it together. _

Dean’s breath hitches and he chuckles. Whatever happens, he’s got Cas, and Cas has him. Together. It’s where they belong. Dean shakes his head and pushes into the convenience store. He bee-lines to the back where they keep these honey cakes Cas is fond of and clears the shelf. 

Misplacing his anger was stupid, but Dean can fix this. He’ll go home, head cleared, and apologize. Hopefully, Cas will have calmed down enough to hear him out. He pays for the cakes, ignoring the odd look the cashier gives him, and dashes back home with two plastic bags full of apologies. Suddenly, his legs can’t carry him fast enough. He needs to see Cas, needs to hold him and taste his lips and remind Cas just how much he loves him. 

The house comes into view as Dean rounds the corner, and he breaks out in a flat out sprint. Maybe he looks like those love-sick idiots in chick flicks dashing through the airport, but he thinks he  _ gets _ it now. Gets that urgency that propels him closer and closer to home. 

Pushing through the front door, Dean freezes. 

The smell of cinnamon and sugar and butter hits him in the face. Beneath that is the faint aroma of caramel and toasted nuts. What’s going on? He kicks off his shoes and walk down the hall leading to the kitchen. 

Cas’ back is turned to him, shoulders hunched over, elbows moving in sync. Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward. On the kitchen counter are three pie shells bursting with filling. Apples, peaches, and pecans. Dean places the bags down next to them as a swell of warmth spreads from his chest. 

Pies. Cas is making pies. After all that, after all the annoyance and anger and frustration, Cas is still looking after him. 

Noticing Cas’ hearing aids on the counter, Dean approaches from behind and taps Cas on the shoulder with two fingers. Cas straightens but doesn't startle as he turns to face Dean. His eyes are red-rimmed, and Dean’s immediate response is to want to punch whoever caused Cas distress. 

Remembering that it’s probably him, Dean decides to not resort to violence. Instead, he pulls Cas into a gentle hug. Cas hesitates, shoulders stiff, but eventually he melts against Dean and slips his arms around Dean’s waist. 

Time slips away, giving them privacy in the comfort of their kitchen. Cas buries his nose into the crook of Dean’s neck. Something hot and wet slicks Dean’s skin. Silent sobs rock Cas’ shoulders until they’re both vibrating with sadness. Dean looks over and spots Cas’ laptop, the rejection email open on the screen, and curses. Of course the agency would send both of them the letter even if Cas is notorious for not checking his inbox often. 

Dean doesn't know how long they stay like this, wrapped around each other, hanging onto each other like a lifeline. Cas pulls away first, wipes the snot and tears from his face with the back of his hand and looks at Dean through clumpy eyelashes. 

“You knew, didn’t you.” His hands are unsteady.

Dean takes Cas’ hands in his and kisses the palms one after the other, then he nods. 

“That’s why you’ve been so irritable today.”

Dean shrugs. “Doesn’t excuse my jackass behavior.” He doesn’t let go of Cas’ hands, knowing Cas can read his lips. “We’ll get another chance.”

Cas nods, lays his head on Dean’s shoulder and gives him another big squeeze, then pulls back with a faint smile. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more patient.”

“You kidding me?” Dean gapes. “You’ve been a fucking saint. If Sammy bitched that hard to me about not having kale, I’d have punched him in the teeth already.” 

Cas laughs. It’s throaty, uninhibited, and a sound he reserves for Dean. Whatever tension left between them evaporates like dew beneath the morning sun, and Dean relaxes. “I got you those little cakes you like so much.”

“From the Asian market?”

“Yeah.”

Cas notices the bags and his eyes brighten, and Dean’s reminded of a clear summer sky. “And here I was just going to make you three stinkin’ pies.” He turns and signs with a blur of excited fingers. 

“They’re going to be the best damn pies ever.” Dean rolls his eyes and kisses Cas’ cheek. “Especially after my deprivation.”

Cas punches him in the shoulder, but there’s no malice behind the hit. “Don’t you fucking start.”

Dean rests his hands on Cas’ hips and directs him back to the counter where Cas was rolling out more pie dough, then he signs with his arms tucked under Cas’, “Chop, chop. Those pies are going to bake themselves.”

When Cas laughs this time, Dean joins him. 

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you enjoyed this! :D


End file.
